


Moving Forward. Or Sideways. Or Backwards.

by shenanigans1414



Series: The Parallel Riverdale Universe Where Things Don't Suck for Kevin [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Fix-It, Fluff, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-10 02:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12289167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shenanigans1414/pseuds/shenanigans1414
Summary: After the dust settles, can Joaquin and Kevin resolve their issues if they just use their words? (Spoiler: Of course they can. But some grievances need to be aired first.) Builds off Season 1, not consistent with Season 2.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Joaquin comes back, explains some shit, and he & Kevin make a decision about their future.  
> Smut is in chapters 2 & 3\. If you don't like that, you could skip those chapters and the story will still make sense (they're flashbacks to when their hormones got them into this pickle in the first place).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Joaquin.

Kevin lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Joaquin. This was not unusual, although he hadn’t seen or heard from the boy in _months._ He’d thought about Joaquin enough to have identified four obvious motifs—he hoped that by trying to treat his thoughts like an assignment for his English Lit class, he’d view them in a more detached manner but alas, no.

There was “Why, Joaquin?!”: What had led his first real boyfriend to use him so cruelly? How could have done what he did to Kevin, when he _seemed_ to care about him? He thought that what they had was real, even special. Didn’t Joaquin? What pressure had FP put on him? Did Joaquin even feel guilty? Did he regret it? Or was that all an act? Was he really--to quote the great Ms. Abdul-- a cold-hearted snake? He certainly had been telling lies. Right?

There was “Why _Joaquin_?” which involved Kevin asking himself how he could have been so incredibly stupid as to get mixed up with a Southside Serpent in the first place. He’s not Archie, he should have seen a bad ending from a mile off. Plus, Joaquin wasn’t even his type. OK, that’s a lie. While Kevin usually went for boy-next-door types and jocks, he wasn’t _blind_. With those _eyes_ and that _hair,_ who wouldn’t be interested? But anyway, what possessed Kevin to take what should have just been a “hit-it-then-quit-it” thing and try to turn it into his first real relationship? Seriously, Keller.

There was “Fuck Joaquin.” Kevin was awesome, he didn’t deserve to be treated like shit. Those who had were free to go straight to hell. He could shake it off like Taylor. He could move on. He hadn’t loved Joaquin. He’d liked him—a _lot,_ a _whole_ lot—but it wasn’t love, yet. He’d been _crushed_ and _pissed_ and _shocked,_ but not heartbroken. Who knows what would have happened in the future, but they weren’t together for that long, really. They were serious enough to be exclusive and “boyfriends” but they didn’t have a chance to get too deep emotionally. And that was no loss. This part of his life was in the rear-view mirror and he was headed to bigger and better things. Right? (So far, his love life hadn’t included anyone bigger OR better, dammit. But even the closet cases hadn’t hurt him the way Joaquin had. So that _was_ better, at least. Right?)

Aaaaand then there was “Fucking Joaquin,” which consisted of a mental highlight reel of the amazing and explosive public and private displays of affection he and Joaquin had gotten up to in their time together. The way Joaquin _kissed_ …the _parts of Kevin’s body_ he’d kissed… the _noises_ he made when Kevin kissed _him_ …the way he’d _tasted…_ Gah. ”Hot” isn’t an adequate word for how they were together. “Incendiary” isn’t an adequate word. “Volcanic” might be close, but it would need to be on the scale of a volcanic _planet,_ not some measly mountain. Best lay of Kevin’s life (which admittedly, wasn’t much of an accomplishment to date). Hurt feelings notwithstanding, he just _knew_ that Joaquin was going to be one of his “greatest hits,” sex-wise. _These_ were the Joaquin thoughts that got the most traffic, so to speak, and Kevin wasn’t even a little bit ashamed. 

But today was unusual. Kevin’s current thoughts didn’t fall under any of these themes (although, c’mon, that last one would _at least_ wave hello whenever he thought about Joaquin). Instead, he was thinking about what he should do about Joaquin. As in, present-tense with respect to the future. Kevin _never_ went there. This… _thing_ …that had happened between them was strictly “been there, done that” _over_. Right?

But. But. But. FP had just been sentenced for obstruction of justice and a boat-load of other charges and was off to prison. Clifford Blossom was long dead. The whole clusterfuck was Capital D Done. This was public knowledge. But. But. But. Kevin had _ever_ -so-casually chatted with his dad and even snuck a peek at his dad’s files. He knew that it was 100% safe for Joaquin to come back to Riverdale, and this certainty came from knowledge that was _not_ public. Should he share it? Should he actually try to make contact somehow?

On the one hand, fuck Joaquin. He’d proven himself to be a sneaky little weasel and Kevin didn’t owe him a damn thing. Also, Joaquin could make a relatively informed decision as to his safety based off of what was printed in the news. And maybe his serpent buddies knew more than they should. Hell, maybe he was already back in town. Or he never wanted to come back. Regardless, probably no need to get involved.

On the other hand, Joaquin had family he cared about in Riverdale. Surely he’d want to see them again, to be able to live near them again. He’d had a life here. A _criminal_ life, but it was his. Maybe things were terrible where he was and he longed for home, for his fucking _gang_ and shit-hole of a bar. Joaquin had done a shitty thing but he wasn’t a shitty person _,_ not really. He didn’t deserve to be on the run for the rest of his life, especially when he wasn’t even being chased. Right?

Kevin sighed and threw his arm across his eyes. Really, it simply came down to him. How petty _was_ Kevin Keller? Was he the type to hold grudges, to go “full black no stars” or whatever the fuck that had been? Would he really keep a person from his family, from his friends, from a basic feeling of safety because said person had wronged him? He was plenty petty, but in your typical all-teenagers-are-assholes way. Making sure he looked extra _fiiine_ on days he had classes with Moose and then completely ignoring him was one thing. This seemed next-level. It seemed like old-school Cheryl Blossom (who, not surprisingly, had changed quite a bit when her family fucking _imploded_ and not just in a “I’m an arsonist now!” way). Old-school Cheryl Blossom was not good. Kevin should be good. He _was_ good, dammit. Right?

Right. Right. Don’t overthink it. Kevin knew what he needed to do. He grabbed his laptop. Joaquin, despite his “I’m too sexy for the law” attitude, was still a Millennial and had a Facebook page. Granted, it didn’t have his legal name. And it was deader than bell-bottoms. He hadn’t posted anything in literally a _year_ and it contained next to no information. His picture was so old that it was barely recognizable. Still, he had crazy relatives who’d still share crazy articles with him and he still got tagged by random acquaintances in random posts. He’d told Kevin that he logged in every now and then to look at other people’s shit, but wasn’t interested in sharing his own life that way. Kevin hadn’t even tagged him in the few pics he’d posted of them (and had since deleted, anyway). There was certainly no clue to his current location.

Still, given that he’d probably dumped his phone (that was what people did when they went on the run, right?) it was likely the best way to get in touch. It was the bare minimum Kevin could do. And then he could always tell himself he did something.

He stared at the messenger window for a ridiculously long time, trying to work out how to say what he felt he ought to say without A) sounding like he was asking Joaquin to come back for _his_ sake and B) admitting in writing that he’d done something illegal (like peek at confidential information). Ultimately, he settled for this:

“Hey. Just FYI, RD is all clear for you. No need to worry. If you need, call (### ### ####). -K.”

Joaquin wasn’t dumb. He could read between the lines. He wouldn’t need to call. He wouldn’t _want_ to call, anyway. And Kevin didn’t want him to call. Right?

 

 

He called. About ten days later, Kevin’s phone rang with a blocked number. He was startled. No one _called_ him, for fuck’s sake, except for his father. When he answered, all he heard was breathing for a moment. This used to be a thing, right? In the olden days, perverts would prank call people? Just as he was ready to hang up, he heard a soft. “Hey. It’s me.”

Of _course_ it was Joaquin and not some nostalgic weirdo. Duh. Kevin shook his head to clear the cobwebs that were clearly clouding his mind and replied “hey” as nonchalantly as possible. It sounded pretty fucking nonchalant, if he did say so himself.

“Hey,” Joaquin repeated. “Um, I got your message?”

“Oh, good.” What was Kevin supposed to say?

“Um, can you, um can you maybe explain a bit? I just, I just want to know, ya know?”

Joaquin _never_ sounded this uncertain when he was talking to Kevin, before. He could take some cruel pleasure in that, right? He’d knocked the mighty serpent off his high horse—er, Harley? (Though part of Kevin’s heart also ached to hear him sound so nervous.)

“Oh sure, yeah. So I guess you heard about FP?” Kevin heard a noise he took as confirmation and pushed on. Might as well get this over with. “Well, in his statement when they asked about…about the clean-up he said that it was just him and Mustang. He’d turned the camera off after Clifford Blossom…did what he did so no one doubted anything. And when they asked _us_ about the jacket, we said the tip came from FP. The case is completely closed. You’re not a person of interest, turns out your name was never even mentioned. No one’s looking for you.”

“No shit.” Joaquin inhaled deeply. “Wow. And you’re, you’re sure?”

Kevin gave a quick snort of derision. “Yeah I’m sure. Some final inside information from the Sheriff’s stupid son for you.” He thought he heard a long sigh in response. It sounded a bit sad, but who can really tell that much from a sigh?

“Thank you. You didn’t need to do this. Fuck, I can’t _believe_ you did this, but thanks. I don’t deserve it.” Kevin said nothing. What was he supposed to do, disagree? Joaquin sighed again and continued. “I think I’ll actually be able to sleep through the night for once. And mi mama y hermanas will be thrilled. So, um, seriously, thank you.”

Kevin still said nothing, because he didn’t know what to say. Finally, he responded. “I’m glad. For your family. And, and the sleeping. Um, good luck with everything.”

“Thanks. Really, _thank you_.”

“Uh, goodbye then.” He needed to get off the phone _stat._ He hadn’t expected to be so affected by the voice of someone he was supposed to hate. He clearly didn’t hate him. He wasn’t happy with him, but it wasn’t hate.

“Bye.” And they hung up.

Kevin stared at his phone for a moment, then slumped forward, utterly exhausted. It was OK. He’d done the right thing. It had made a difference. He’d shown himself to be the bigger person. Now it could _really_ be over. Right?

 

 

Two weeks later, Kevin was in the kitchen cleaning up when he heard his father answer the door. His father entered the room carrying a large vase of flowers. It was a beautiful arrangement of colorful dahlias and hydrangeas from the local florist. Kevin loved hydrangeas.

“These came for you, son. Anything you want to tell me?” His father wiggled his eyebrows hopefully. Kevin shook his head in puzzlement and took the flowers. There was a card that simply read “Thanks always. J.”

Kevin shook his head again, more slowly this time. “Nope. I helped someone out, that’s all.”

His father smiled proudly and pat Kevin on the back. “Atta boy. Good for you.”

Kevin simply stood there, staring at the card. He didn’t know how to interpret the gesture. Was it meant to symbolize the end of things, or represent a desire for a new start? Maybe it didn’t mean anything other than “thank you” and Kevin was overthinking things. Per usual. He rolled his eyes. This was so _frustrating_. He’d always been so envious of the straights at school and their relationships: holding hands, going to dances together, having someone to cuddle with at the movies. But goddammit, he never had to deal with this shit with casual hook-ups. Boyfriends were so complicated! If Joaquin was still his boyfriend. Which of course he wasn’t. Which Kevin was more than fine with. Right?

Sighing, he carried the flowers up to his room so he could set them on his desk. It didn’t mean he forgave Joaquin, or cared about him in any way. It was just because they were so pretty. He loved hydrangeas, after all.

Kevin lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Joaquin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon, preppy. Let’s get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”  
> “A Cinderella joke from Mr. Tough Guy. What WOULD your friends say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A flashback to earlier times. Here be smut.  
> (Also, their text speech is ridiculous but that's just to make it clear that it's texting, not talking!)

_~~~Earlier~~~_

Kevin was relatively new at this but he wasn’t THAT new. He expected that if this Joaquin guy got in touch with him (which he doubted, given the whole son-of-the-sheriff thing), it would be to hook up and nothing more. And maybe that would have been the case, had he not been cock-blocked by life.

He got a text two days after the movie, asking if he was free that night. Unfortunately, because of the break-in Kevin’s dad was in _uber_ protective mode and not letting Kev go anywhere other than school. Plus, he had a truly unforgivable amount of schoolwork. It seemed like the universe was conspiring to keep Kevin from getting some. Typical.  Stupid dead bodies. Stupid trigonometry.

“sry, can’t 2nite. gotta study for math and bio tests this week. sorry! :(”

“aww too bad. i guess 2morrows no good either?”

“yeah this whole week sucks for me. & im REALLY sorry about that. id love to meet up.”

“that blows”

At this point, he figured that was it. Either Joaquin would think he was ditching him, or he’d move on to someone more convenient. But that’s not what happened. Somehow, they got to chatting. And that turned into an off & on conversation that carried them through the entire week. A conversation where they (gasp!) actually got to know one another. They were both truly busy with school and extra-curricular activities (Joaquin’s being much more “extra” than Kevin’s) but whenever they had a free moment they were texting like madmen.

Kevin found out that Joaquin was a senior at Southside and he too hated math. He preferred physics and shop class. He had two kid sisters, his mother was a saint, his father was a drunk, and they all lived in a too-small trailer. He was determined to make enough money to one day buy his mama a nice house, come hell or high water. He didn’t like sports. He was a Gemini. He was queer and he was out. It usually wasn’t a big deal, though he did get shit sometimes from some older Serpents. Nobody was stupid enough to hassle him at school.

They both _really_ loved movies. Joaquin loved action movies but also had a soft-spot for animated films (which he swore he only watched because of his sisters). Kevin loved westerns and musicals. They both enjoyed classic films and good sci-fi flicks. There wasn’t nearly as much overlap when they swapped musical preferences, but at least it was fertile ground for flirtatious teasing (whatever, Kevin would not be shamed for his adoration of Beyoncé— _Joaquin_ should be ashamed that he doesn’t appreciate the majestic talent of Queen Bey). They both admitted they were completely addicted to their phones: Kevin couldn’t keep away from social media, Joaquin had some websites he read religiously. They sent each other the shit they found funny (tweets, memes, pictures of cats, whatever), and their senses of humor were oddly simpatico. In short, they clicked.

Still, it _was_ a bit awkward when they finally met up in person. Some of the awkwardness came from the situation itself: Kevin was waiting at a dimly-lit gas station that was near-ish to his house, by himself, in the dark. He felt like the doomed idiot at the beginning of the slasher flick. A dented and rusty car pulled up and, recognizing Joaquin, he hopped in. And for once, he couldn’t think of anything smooth to say.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Well, at least it wasn’t just him who seemed a bit flustered. He went to lean forward and then paused, unsure what to do. He ought to do something, right? A kiss would be OK, given how they met and that they’d been texting and flirting for a full _week_ now. A fist-bump, now _that_ would be odd. But a kiss seemed…appropriate. So why did this feel so weird? Luckily, Joaquin seemed to be making the same type of tentative movements so Kevin just leaned across the console and went for it. When they pulled away a few moments later, the boys were smiling at each other. Kevin realized at least some of the weirdness was from the butterflies dancing in his stomach. He really _liked_ this guy. On a level beyond his (not inconsiderable) physical appeal.

He looked around and then back at Joaquin with an amused face. “Nice car.” The seats and floor mats were stained and there were crumbs and food wrappers strewn about the interior.

Joaquin laughed and rolled his eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. But I had to borrow a car for tonight and out of my friends’ rides, this one smelled the least bad. Nothing but the best for you.”

“Hey, I’m just happy not to be on the back of that deathtrap you call a bike!” Joaquin had sent Kevin a picture of his motorcycle and his response had been “oh HELL no.” The boy assured him that it was perfectly safe, but Kevin said he liked his face the way it was, thanks. Joaquin had agreed that it _was_ an excellent face.

“I’ll get you to go for a ride someday,” Joaquin said with a smirk and pulled out onto the road. They hadn’t discussed where they were going to go—there weren’t too many options. Pop’s was a no-go if they wanted to be discreet, and Kevin was NOT going to Sweetwater River anytime soon. A lot of the popular hook-up spots were patrolled regularly by his dad’s people, as he’d horrifically learned over the summer. He and Deputy Reyes were still not able to make eye contact with one another.

So he wasn’t surprised when it seemed like they were headed to the outskirts of town. He _was_ surprised that Joaquin was so quiet. His openness over text did not seem to translate to in-person interactions. But he was listening, and chiming in now and then, and Kevin realized that he didn’t mind getting a chance to just talk for once. It seemed when he was with his friends these days he could barely get a word in edgewise. He loved them, he really did, but sometimes they drove him so fucking craaazzy.

Eventually, Joaquin pulled off onto an old road or driveway. It didn’t seem to lead anywhere, but took them far enough from the main road to get some privacy. There was no view to speak of—just some trees—but Joaquin turned up the dashboard lights so they could at least see each other a bit in the glow. He turned the engine off and swiveled to check Kevin out.

“You look good. This prissy-preppy look works real well for you,” he teased.

“Well, _excuse me_ for having style!” Kevin sniffed in mock anger, though he was flattered by the way the other boy’s eyes were hungrily eyeing him. He took on an exaggerated flirtatious tone. “It’s part of my charm. I might _look_ straight-laced but…” He leaned towards Joaquin (more confidently now) and gripped the lapel of his jacket. He dipped his head towards the boy’s lips but turned at the last minute to nip sharply on his earlobe. Joaquin growled, sunk his hand into Kevin’s hair, and tugged him back to kissing position with some force.

Joaquin seemed to want to devour him and Kevin had absolutely no desire to stop him. So many of the guys Kevin had hooked up with were unwilling to kiss at ALL _,_ and this guy had his hands in Kevin’s hair to keep him from moving away. Like _that_ would ever happen. Joaquin’s mouth and tongue were hypnotizing him, pulling him into a world where there was nothing but heat and want and pleasure. Eventually, Kevin gained enough awareness to realize that Joaquin was in total command of the situation and he was just along for the ride. That wasn’t fair. He bit the older boy’s lower lip and felt him shudder. Now it was Kevin’s turn to drive. He used his superior height to lean further over the sexy senior, forcing him to tilt his head back to continue the kiss. He took advantage of this by kissing down Joaquin’s jawline to his neck, stopping to suck at a spot that seemed particularly sensitive. His hands were pulling Joaquin’s hair, keeping his head tilted back as Kevin licked, bit, and kissed his way around the older boy’s neck and shoulders. Although Kevin was holding him in place, Joaquin didn’t seem to object much—he was panting and muttering under his breath. Kevin recognized a few curse words but the rest were in Spanish. It was ridiculously hot.

Kevin had fully expected for them to continue in this vein for the remainder of the evening, but after a while stretching across the console started to bother his back. He thought that if he pushed his seat back, Joaquin would be able to straddle him but before he could execute this plan the other boy leaned away and exhaled deeply. He rolled the window down a bit to let some fresh air in.

“Damn, preppy. You sure got some mouth on you.”

“Oh, you have _no_ idea,” Kevin purred and Joaquin shuddered.

“Dammit, Keller. I’m _trying_ not mount you and come in my pants like a goddamned tween, and that shit is not helping. Let’s take a breather, ok?”

Kevin pouted but nodded. To his surprise, Joaquin opened his door and got out. He stuck his head back in to address the younger teen. “C’mon, move that hot ass.”

They sat on trunk of the car, resting against the rear windshield and staring at the stars. Joaquin lit a cigarette and had his other arm around Kevin’s shoulders and it was just… _wonderful_.  They didn’t say much, just silly murmurs about the Big Dipper and if a particular bright light was a satellite or a planet. Joaquin turned out to be a master bullshit artist and had Kevin _convinced_ that a specific splotch was the ISS…before cracking and admitting that he knew fuck-all about space. They soon started kissing again, but it was too uncomfortable a position to maintain.

“Backseat. Now,” Joaquin panted, and Kevin thought he’d never heard a more brilliant idea in his life. They quickly relocated and in the blink of an eye, they were shrugging off coats and unbuckling belts. Joaquin leaned over Kevin, pushing him back and pulling his jeans down. “ _Guapo_. Want you so bad.” He was scrambling to get a hold of Kevin’s dick while Kevin was struggling to unbutton the other boy’s jeans. It was frenetic and hot and they were soon jacking each other off. Well, Kevin was _trying_ to but he kept getting distracted: Joaquin was going to town on his neck (probably leaving hickeys in places that would be impossible to cover but who the hell cared?!) and roughly fisting Kevin’s dick. Kevin was halfheartedly stroking the other boy until he lost all self-control and started thrusting upwards into the boy’s tight hand. Joaquin groaned at the loss of contact, but then groaned more deeply as he realized Kevin was close to his peak. “Come _on_! _¡Dio!_ _COME_!”

Kevin had no choice but to obey. “Fuck. _Fuck_.” That was way better than a simple hand-job ought to be. He wanted to drift off a hazy pink cloud, but even in his post-orgasmic haze he heard Joaquin’s muttered curses and pleas. The boy had grabbed a clean napkin from the car’s floor and was wiping off his hand, never once looking away from Kevin’s twitching cock. Kevin seized the napkin and got a handful of his own cum, which he then used as a sort of filthy lube on the Joaquin’s dick. The curses were no longer muttered, but were breathed directly into Kevin’s ear as Joaquin ground down into the boy’s fist. Kevin at first moved his hand to match the thrusts, then switched hands so that he could use his right hand to stroke Joaquin’s balls and press the sensitive spot right behind them. “C’mon, sexy boy,” he whispered. “Make me a mess. I want you to come in my hand. I want to feel it.” Joaquin moaned, thrust twice, and then finished with a shout. He collapsed on Kevin, who felt blindly for the napkin and cleaned them up with a dry corner and a nudge to gently shift the older boy. Once the worst of the stickiness was taken care off, Joaquin flopped back down onto Kevin’s chest.  Despite his shorter height, he was still a solid weight but Kevin liked the pressure. It made it seem more real.

They lay quietly that way, basking, breathing in sync. Kevin eventually thought to look at the clock on the dashboard and sighed regretfully. He had to be home in 20 minutes. Joaquin shifted back off the boy with a whine, and they inspected the damage. Amazingly, most of the cum had ended up in the napkin and on Kevin’s underwear, but not their pants or shirts. As he carefully pulled up his jeans, Kevin noticed that some had actually ended up on the seat, but Joaquin shrugged.

“Whatever, I’m sure that explains some of these other stains. It’s not like he’ll notice.”

“Oh, _gross_!”

“Nothing but the best,” Joaquin repeated with a smirk. “C’mon, preppy. Let’s get you home before you turn into a pumpkin.”

“A Cinderella joke from Mr. Tough Guy. What _would_ your friends say?”

 

 

In Kevin’s experience, after the pay-off these things sometimes fizzled out but their text conversation continued as before (though with noticeably more innuendo). Kevin did note that Joaquin had barely talked when they’d met up, and the older boy admitted that he wasn’t normally very chatty.

“ill make it up to u next time. when can u meet up? after ur show?”

“its not my show, im not even performing, but yeah i can probably get away.”

“but ur organizing the whole thing right? thats more impressive. lotsa people can sing but not many can get shit done. u should be proud.”

“lets wait & see how it goes first. ill be mortified if this ends up a trainwreck.”

“not gonna happen. u won’t let it.”                              

Since Kevin would have his dad’s truck, they arranged for Joaquin to meet him not far from the school once the variety show was over. After the last act, Kevin offered and received praise, noticed Betty & Jughead were missing, noticed Veronica seemed upset, and then bailed. Maybe that made him a bad friend but whatever. He was sure he’d hear all about it tomorrow. Tonight, he was going to treat himself.

To Kevin’s surprise, Joaquin wasn’t wearing his Serpent jacket but just a black hoodie; this must be incognito mode. He still looked hot as fuck. He gave Kevin a swift kiss that tasted like cigarettes and bad choices after he climbed into the truck.

“So where are we going, Wild One?”

Joaquin smirked at the nickname. He’d told Kevin all about his love of Marlon Brando, and Kevin had immediately guessed that his favorite of Brando’s movies was the one about the outlaw biker gang.

“You know that sketchy strip mall with the nail salon and karate studio on East Elm?”

“Um, yeah?”

“There’s a Thai place there, let’s go.”

“But the Thai restaurant is on Maple, near Main Street.”

“No, the _good_ Thai restaurant is on Maple. There’s another Thai place on Elm that nobody ever goes to. It’s probably going out of business soon, but should be OK for tonight.”

As Joaquin predicted, the strip mall lot had just three cars. Still, he suggested Kevin park around the corner where his truck would be less noticeable. In the restaurant itself, there was a middle-aged couple neither of them recognized but no other diners, just a glum waiter.

“I didn’t even know this place was here,” whispered Kevin as the waiter left with their order of Thai iced teas and satay.

Joaquin shrugged. “No one does. They’ve been open for a few months, and I’ve never seen anyone here when I drive by. Maybe the food sucks?”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “More likely that Riverdale doesn’t need two ‘ethnic’ restaurants. People rarely eat anywhere other than Pop’s. I swear, the people of this town have milkshakes and maple syrup in their veins instead of blood.”

Joaquin made a disgusted face at the mental image but then shrugged again. He sat back and stretched his arm against the top of the booth. “You wanted me to talk, preppy. What should I talk about?”

“OK, how about why you keep calling me preppy?”

Another shrug, coupled with a smirk. “You _are_ preppy. And your ears turn red when I say it, which is funny.”

“Fair enough. So… tell me about your sisters.”

Kevin had chosen well: Joaquin adored his _corazoncitas_ and his taciturn tendencies were overcome by his desire to share funny stories about Isabella (11) and Sabrina (9). As Kevin had expected, once he actually got Joaquin talking, it wasn’t hard to keep things going. Soon they were chatting as comfortably as they did via text. They discussed their guilty pleasure movies, and Kevin giggled when he realized they both had a secret fondness for _Jupiter Ascending._

“Dog-man Channing Tatum rollerblading in space! _Amaaaazing_!” Kevin squealed gleefully. Joaquin just laughed and nodded in agreement. Of course, they each had a few the other hadn’t seen and they made plans for a crappy movie marathon as soon as possible. They had a great time simply talking and eating terrible Thai food. This was not what Kevin would have predicted when he first gave Joaquin his number, but it was fantastic nonetheless.

Still, they _were_ teenage boys and they _did_ follow things with some vigorous necking and thrusting in the darkened shadows behind the restaurant. They soon both had their jeans and underwear shoved down and managed to grind against one another despite the significant height difference. Kevin ended up with one hand in Joaquin’s hair and with the other wrapped around both of their dicks, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world. They weren’t so lucky this time—the bottom of Joaquin’s t-shirt ended up fairly covered in cum, but he just smirked and said it was worth it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin tilted his head so he could see Joaquin’s face and smirked. “Does that mean we’re dating, then?” He expected it to be treated like a joke, but instead the older boy looked at him appraisingly.  
> “Hmm. You’re cute as hell. This is nice. We have fun together... Sure, let’s date.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback Part Deux. (There's smut here as well),

Neither of them commented on it, but It seemed like it was getting easier and easier to find room in their busy schedules for one another. They went to the forlorn Thai place twice more (the food didn’t get any better). They went parking again—in the truck this time—and managed to have a conversation in addition to getting their rocks off. They even had two or three of what Kevin thought of as “drive-bys”: if they each had a few free minutes after school before their various activities got going, Joaquin would meet him in a small alley around the corner from Riverdale High. (Kevin had offered to meet Joaquin near his school sometime to make things fairer, but Joaquin didn’t want him coming to the South Side). They’d only had time for a quick make-out session, but Kevin wasn’t going to complain. He wasn’t sure what ‘this’ was exactly—friends with benefits?—but it sure as hell beat all of his previous romantic forays.

 

Eventually, the stars aligned: Both Joaquin and Kevin had an entire evening free, _and_ Kevin’s dad had a late shift at the station. So Joaquin gathered his courage and knocked on Sheriff Keller’s front door for their bad movie film fest.

“Pizza, preppy.” Kevin had barely opened the door before a greasy box was shoved in his hands and Joaquin was barreling his way into the house. “Sorry, just don’t really want to loiter on your porch. Fuck, I should have taken off my jacket when I parked my bike.”

“Calm down, it’s fine. My neighbors don’t keep track of who comes and goes.” They’d learned this following the break-in. “There’s no neighborhood watch or anything like that. Nobody to tattle that I had a _boy_ over while my dad was gone.” For once, he was grateful not to live closer than Betty. He knew what a lunatic her mom could be.

Joaquin seemed to unwind a bit as Kevin talked, shrugging off his jacket and kicking off his boots. He looked around. “Nice place. It’s just the two of you, right?”

Kevin blushed, imagining that Joaquin was thinking of his family’s living situation and how cramped it was. He sometimes forgot how different their lives were. As he hung up Joaquin’s jacket, he eyed the Southside Serpent tattoo clearly visible due to the plain white tee the boy was wearing. Yeah, their lives were pretty damn different. But just as he was starting to get self-conscious, the older boy grabbed him  and gave him a deep kiss.

“Let’s eat before that gets any colder. Where’s the TV?”

As they ambled towards the den, Kevin looked at him in confusion. “Did you forget the movie? Weren’t you bringing the Fast and Furious 40?”

Joaquin rolled his eyes. “The 7th one, actually. That’s when the cars started driving through buildings, you’ll love it. And it’s right here.” He pulled a small flash drive out of his jeans pocket.

“What, did you _pirate_ it!?!”

“Why so shocked, preppy? You knew I was a bad guy.” This was said with a cocked eyebrow and subtle flex of muscles to make his tattoo ripple.

Kevin fanned himself theatrically. “Oh, my stars! I’m having vapors from being in the presence of such an awful, awful man!” He finished with a squeeze to Joaquin’s side, which made the shorter boy squeak. “ _Such_ a bad guy.”

 

Kevin _did_ in fact love watching cars drive through buildings. He was so wrapped up in the movie that he didn’t realize that he was resting on Joaquin’s shoulder, whose arm was draped around him. He was comfortable. He was happy. He had an epiphany. “You know, I’ve never done this before.”

“What, watched a Fast & Furious movie? I _know_ , preppy, that’s why I brought this one over. To convert you. Which I think I did. Score one for DeSantos.”

Kevin gently elbowed the senior in the gut. “That’s not what I meant, jackass. I meant I haven’t watched a movie with a guy like this. Like, in a…non-platonic way.” He’d been on a couple of dates, of course. Even with his pathetic love life there had been _some_ decent moments. He’d been wined & dined by a few guys (including the guy who Kevin had lost his virginity to), but they were all part of brief, whirlwind affairs. But nothing this informal. Or cozy. He liked it.

Joaquin frowned thoughtfully down at Kevin. “Oh. Well. Um, I guess I haven’t either. Huh.” Joaquin had told Kevin all about the gay scene at Southside: there were a few more out students than Riverdale (which wasn’t hard, being just Kevin and 3 lesbians) but he too had just hooked up with guys who were closeted or on the down-low. “Wait, no. I guess I have, kinda? If you count the girls I dated in middle school before I realized I preferred guys, anyway. We did this sorta thing a lot.”

Kevin tilted his head so he could see Joaquin’s face and smirked. “Does that mean _we’re_ dating, then?” He expected it to be treated like a joke, but instead the older boy looked at him appraisingly.

“Hmm. You’re cute as hell. This is nice. We have fun together... Sure, let’s date.”

Now Kevin sat up and swiveled to face the boy. “Wait, really?” Based on what he heard from Veronica about the perils of the “defining the relationship” talk, this was all wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be this straightforward. Right? “Like _dating_ dating?” Although ‘dating’ didn’t necessarily mean ‘being in a relationship’…he shouldn’t get too excited just yet.

Joaquin shrugged. “Yeah, why not? We kind of are already, basically. I haven’t done this before, but it seems to be working. Let’s just roll with it. Unless you…?”

Kevin cut him off. “No, no. You’re right. I haven’t had a… _relationship_ before either but yeah, this is nice.” Joaquin didn’t seem to object to his using the r-word so he pushed on. “And I, uh, I haven’t hooked up with anyone else since we started doing…this.” Let’s throw exclusivity in there too, Keller. Because this is going too well.

But Joaquin just smirked and ran a hand lightly across Kevin’s collarbone. “Good. I don’t want to share you. And I don’t want anyone else trespassing on my territory.” His fingers caressed a love bite that lay just past the neckline of Kevin’s shirt. “And I haven’t either. Haven’t wanted to.”

Kevin gave him a confused but pleased smile. “OK then! So you’re what, my boyfriend?” That was weird to say. But a good kind of weird. Like a bizarre new kind of tropical fruit.

Joaquin nodded then smiled slyly. “Yeah, your boyfriend. Who you like _sooo_ much that you’re not going to subject me to the seven brothers movie.”

Kevin gave him a playful slap. “Shut up, it’s a bunch of sexy singing & dancing lumberjacks and an _amazingly_ sexist plot. Stockholm Syndrome, the musical! In glorious Technicolor! You’ll hate-love it, it’s unbelievable.” He swiveled again to straddle his boyfriend and looked down at him with teasing eyes. “But I like you _sooo_ much that I’ll put you in a reaaal good mood before we start it.”

Joaquin grabbed Kevin’s hips and gave him a slow smile. “Oh, yeah? That’s a compromise I can get down with.”

“I’ll show you getting down, handsome.” He slooowly rotated his hips, grinding into Joaquin’s lap. Rocking back and forth, making eye contact the whole time, it didn’t take long to feel the senior growing hard beneath him. Now Kevin leaned down to kiss his way from Joaquin’s ear, to his jaw, to his lips, to his neck, to his collarbone where it was _his_ turn to mark his territory. Joaquin was doing that thing he did where he was muttering sexily (Kevin thought it was totally ridiculous that he could make _muttering_ seem so hot), encouraging Kevin to keep going.

Once he deemed the boy was sufficiently worked up, he slipped off the couch to his knees. Joaquin grinned and unbuckled his belt, and was panting by the time Kevin worked his jeans and boxer briefs down. He kissed one of Joaquin’s hipbones, then nibbled and licked down his surprisingly-defined Apollo’s belt. Kevin paused and gently blew on his boyfriend’s (!!!) erection, then worked his way up the other furrow to the opposite hipbone.

Joaquin seemed to be getting impatient. “Kev Kev Kev,” he pled, gripping the younger teen’s hair but not guiding him in any way. Kevin enjoyed the hell out of this, having someone completely at his mercy and desperate for him to do _something,_ anything. With one hand, he ever so gently stroked the older boy’s scrotum, causing him to shiver. Figuring that was enough torture, he started at the very base of Joaquin’s cock and _slooowly_ licked his way up like it was an ice cream cone. “Delicious,” he added, with a wink. Joaquin seemed to be beyond words, panting even faster now.

He spent a considerable amount of time playing with the tip, licking and gently nibbling his way around the head, flicking the frenulum with his tongue. He caught Joaquin’s eye and moaned with pleasure, which made the other boy’s eyes roll back in his head. Smiling around the cock in his mouth, Kevin resumed the ice cream cone approach, moaning even more appreciatively. (It wasn’t an act, it really _did_ get him hot to do this, and to see Joaquin so worked up.) Once he noticed Joaquin opening his eyes and looking at him again, he started to swallow. His eyes widened as Kevin took in more and more of him: In all their flirty texting, he’d never revealed his lack of a gag reflex so deep throating must have been a pleasant surprise.

He bobbed up and down, triple-tonguing (a skill he’d learned from playing the trumpet, of all things). He made himself comfortable, relaxed his jaw a bit, and winked. When he didn’t respond, he tapped Joaquin’s hip and wiggled his eyebrows. The older boy looked even more surprised, but then groaned and started to gently thrust into Kevin’s mouth.

By now, the other boy was moaning so loudly that Kevin could barely hear the bullet sounds coming from the movie. It seemed like there was some sort of climatic shoot-out happening behind him. After a while, he took a break from getting his face fucked and pulled off, replacing his lips with his hands and saying all sorts of ridiculously filthy things (he wasn’t quite sure what he said, but whatever it was made Joaquin moan even _louder_ ).

All this went on for some time—Kevin savored giving head, and saw no reason for things to be rushed. Eventually, he started stroking and tugging Joaquin’s balls as he sucked, tickling the boy’s perineum. His boyfriend wasn’t gasping now, he seemed like he was barely breathing. Kevin busted out his Finishing MoveTM, and Joaquin came with a silent scream down his throat. He then collapsed back on the couch and shut his eyes, twitching slightly. Then he was still.

The older boy came to a few moments later, slightly dazed. “What the fuck? Did I…black out?!?”

“Just for a minute,” Kevin replied with a smug smile. “I _am_ pretty good at that, if I do say so myself.” He spent an unreasonable amount of time reading sex guides and tips when he was in middle school, and had even practiced a bit with phallic fruits and veggies. _Mortifying_ now, but ultimately worth it.

“ _¡No manches!_ ‘Pretty good?’ That was…fuck, I don’t know what that was, preppy. Fucking incredible, for starters. C’mere.” As Kevin reseated himself on the couch, Joaquin basically flopped towards him and burrowed into his lap. “I’ll reciprocate, I promise. In a minute. Or ten. Once I can move. God _damn._ My _toes_ are fucking tingling. _¡Mierda!”_

Kevin laughed and stroked the older boy’s hair. “No hurry. In the meantime, I’ve got ‘Seven Brides for Seven Brothers’ all queued up!”

“Bring it on,” Joaquin muttered, still reeling. As the colors and sounds washed over them, Kevin assumed he was fighting to stay awake.

He didn’t nod off, but he was still startled when Kevin blurt out a question after one of the songs finished. “Are we still keeping this a secret? Because that’s getting tricky, don’t you think? And I’m getting sick of Thai.” He also really, really wanted to tell Betty that he had a _boyfriend_ but it was totally a logistics concern. Honest. Wait, no there was an added bonus. “Oh! Also my dad has been a real trooper in supporting his gay son but he also _totally_ thinks I’m a slut and he’d be over the fucking _moon_ to know I’m actually dating someone.” He saw Joaquin wince, and went on to add. “You don’t have to _meet_ him or anything. Just knowing that you exist should be sufficient.”

“My mama would be happy to hear about you, too. So I guess we don’t have to keep it a secret? Though I don’t think you should tell everybody what I am. _Particularly_ your dad.”

“And I don’t think you should tell everybody who _I_ am. Particularly your gang.”

Joaquin exhaled loudly, but it was an amused sound. “We’re pretty fucking dumb, aren’t we? This is a terrible idea.”

Kevin shrugged and smiled. “We’re teenagers, sweetheart. We’re supposed to have terrible ideas. And at least this is a _fun_ terrible idea.”

“Speaking of fun…” Joaquin arched an eyebrow at him. “I think I know a way to make this movie more entertaining. I think I’d rather watch _you_ watching your singing, dancing lumberjacks as I suck you off.”

Things didn’t go _quite_ as Joaquin planned, because Kevin watched him more than the TV. And once he was finished, it was Kevin’s turn to snuggle up to _him_ so he ended up seeing more of the movie anyway. But there were no complaints from the peanut gallery, and Kevin thought he couldn’t get any happier.

 

Of course, with high highs come low lows. Looking back, Kevin felt like the world’s biggest chump. Unless he’d fucking cured _lepers_ in a previous life, Kevin did not have the kind of karma to merit a sexy, thoughtful boyfriend with silvery eyes and kisses to die for. In retrospect, Joaquin had seemed waaay too into Kevin and had really done the most to advance their ‘relationship,’ keeping it from being the casual hook-up Kevin had always expected it to be. He seemed to actually _care,_ to _like_ Kevin. Because of course he did. It was his goddamned _job_ to seem that way. Kevin felt like he’d be hustled, and honestly it made him want to cry and/or punch something.

He should have known it was too good to be true, _he_ was too good to be true. Hell, just look at the way he’d handled sex: Once Kevin had haltingly revealed that his previous experiences with _sex_ sex hadn’t been all that great (inexperienced + eager + self-absorbed being a bad combination in lovers), Joaquin never pushed and let Kevin set the pace. It wasn’t that he wasn’t interested; Kevin had no doubt that _that_ part had been real at least. (Case in point, he’d noticed that one particular Spanish phrase came up more than others while they were fooling around, and he’d repeated it to the best of his ability to Veronica for a translation. She’d just arched an eyebrow at him and said ‘God, I want to fuck you’ and Archie ended up doing a spit-take all over the lunch table.) When they finally did have sex (not too long before everything went to hell), Joaquin had Kevin top the first time—something he’d never tried, but the older boy suggested it might make Kevin less nervous. And when they had switched things up, it was _incredible_ and completely annihilated the memory of the fumbling fools of his past. At the time, Joaquin had seemed like a dream first boyfriend—so sensitive, so focused on _his_ comfort and pleasure. Now he knew that it _was_ just a fantasy. Joaquin just hadn’t wanted to scare Kevin away before he got what he needed from him. He’d been used by a criminal.

At least, he assumed that was the case. After all, it was easier to just be angry than to try to work out what was real versus fake. Because there was no way to really know that unless he had a serious conversation with Joaquin. Which he was never, ever going to do. Right? He’s not a masochist. He’d learned his lesson. He’d moved on.

Right?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "How can I trust you? I don’t even know you, remember?”  
> “But you do, Kev. You do know me. You know Joaquin DeSantos, better than almost anyone I think. You just don’t know Joaquin the Southside Serpent.”  
> “Well, THAT Joaquin sucks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more after this, I think! Even though Joaquin has some explanations, that doesn't immediately solve things.  
> (Also, please feel free to leave kudos or feedback.)

Kevin internally chanted his peace and love mantra as he pushed through the north-east exit of Riverdale High. He’d just spent an extremely frustrating hour _literally_ biting his tongue to keep himself from eviscerating two of the stupidest people to ever walk God’s green earth. Bless their hearts, they wanted to help with the upcoming dance but they didn’t understand the most basic concepts. Like, laws. And thermodynamics. Yes, it would be ‘cool’ to light fireworks at the end of the dance in the gym but it would also be _lethal._ And no, it can’t be a kegger. Because it’s a _high school dance._ And no, the really cool party supply store that he’d found online was _not_ at a place called “Dropped Pin.” He was trying to delegate more, but dammit they were not making it easy for him! He honestly didn’t trust Chase and Deidre with grown-up silverware, let alone responsibility.

He was still trying to focus on their positives (they were enthusiastic! they wanted to help! they were unlikely to survive to reproductive age and would not be contaminating the gene pool!) as he walked towards to the parking lot. And then all thoughts—positive, negative, homicidal—flew straight out of his head. Because there was Joaquin, just standing there with his hands in his pockets like everything was totally normal.

Kevin hated himself for it, but his very first thought was that Joaquin looked _good._ Ridiculously good. His hair was a little longer, he still wore jeans like it ought to be his job, and he had a different leather jacket. Still black, but less White Snake, more moto/modern. Honestly, it was unfair how hot this boy was.

At least he had the decency to look sheepish. Sexily sheepish, goddammit. Again, there was really no justice in the world.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” For fuck’s sake, why did this keep happening? He’d practiced what he’d say if he saw Joaquin for hours and hours, and he goes with ‘hey.’ Pathetic “Um, you looking for me? How’d you know I’d be here?”

“It’s Tuesday,” Joaquin answered with a slight shrug. “You’ve got student council. And you always take the truck on Tuesdays.”

Unfair unfair unfair.  Kevin inhaled slowly, and willed himself to not be touched that his ex remembered his schedule. He wanted to be _angry_. He _was_ angry. There was no secret soft-spot, nosiree.

Joaquin ended up filling the awkward silence. “Um, how are you?” He winced as soon as he said it, then looked down and shuffled his feet a bit.

You got this, Keller. Inhale, exhale. “Oh, you know.  Fierce, devastatingly handsome, brilliant. The usual.” Because seeing this person has no effect on you, Kevin Keller. You’re the king of cool.

The comment got a half smile and a big sigh. “Listen, Kevin. I don’t know what to say. But I owe you an apology. A big one. And holy _fuck_ am I’m sorry. That’s not enough…”

Kevin cut him off. “You’re right, that’s not enough.” He had this. He would determine how this conversation went. He wasn’t going to just let this asshole clear his conscience and strut away. “You used me. You lied to me. And you dumped a body in the river and mopped up buckets of blood!”

Joaquin winced again but he also nodded. “Yeah, I’m a piece of shit. I know.”

“Yes. You are.”

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I still need to apologize. I couldn’t _not_ apologize to you, Kev.”  And then Joaquin just looked at him with those soulful, silvery, sad eyes and Kevin fucking _snapped_.

“Oh, just shut the fuck up, Joaquin. Don’t give me this ‘I’m not worthy’ shit because you’re _not._ You _don’t_ deserve my forgiveness. What you did was unforgivable. You don’t get to apologize for it, not now not ever. You have to live with it.” Kevin wiped his hands over his face. He thought this would be hard, but it wasn’t. There was a _lot_ of anger, apparently. “You took advantage of a lonely, vulnerable person and manipulated the situation to get what you want from the very start. _Fuck_ you for going after me to get to my father. _Fuck_ you for making me think you actually liked me when it was just a stupid con. And _fuck_ you for hooking up and sleeping with me when it was all a lie, that’s _really_ fucking sleazy. You _should_ be ashamed of yourself. So no, you don’t get to apologize. And _I don’t forgive you_.”

As Kevin read him for filth, Joaquin’s face fell. He looked confused, and ashamed, and horrified.

“Wait, Kevin! That’s not how it was at all!”

“Whatever.” Kevin started to walk away. He’d gotten his closure and he was going to go out on a high note, dammit.

“No, seriously wait! _Please._ ”

Joaquin sounded desperate, which he never did (outside of a sex context, at least). It was shocking enough that Kevin stopped walking, though he didn’t look at his ex directly.

Said ex was pacing and running his hands through his hair. “I had no idea that you thought that. That’s not how it was at all! Honest! Holy shit, holy shit. This is so, so bad.” He paused to take a deep breath and pushed on. “I guess you won’t believe me, but that is _not_ how things happened. I _did_ really like you. I _do_ really like you. I kissed you because I thought you were hot. I texted you because I thought you were hot, then I kept texting you because you were interesting and funny. I wanted to date you because I liked spending time with you. I asked you to be my boyfriend because you’re awesome and I just wanted you. No ulterior motive. _None_ of that was fake. It was only the last few weeks that FP was making me lie to you, making me use you. And I _hated_ myself for doing it because I care about you, preppy.” His voice broke on those last few words.

Kevin had slowly turned to look at Joaquin as he’d talked, and was now looking at him skeptically. “You’re right, I don’t believe you. How can I trust you? I don’t even know you, remember?”

“But you _do,_ Kev. You do know me. You know Joaquin DeSantos, better than almost anyone I think.” His eyes and shoulders dropped. “You just don’t know Joaquin the Southside Serpent.”

“Well, _that_ Joaquin sucks.”

That got a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, he really does. He wrecks shit and does terrible things. But really Kevin, it _wasn’t_ fake. I _did_ tell my mama and the girls about you, about the nice smart pretty boy who was my boyfriend. Who I _wanted_ to be my boyfriend. I never did this before. I didn’t get to know the guys I fucked around with, or look at the stars with them, or go out to eat with them, or _cuddle_ with them. And I didn’t want to. I didn’t want a relationship and then I met you. And you just…fit. I was happier when I was with you. And that was confusing as _fuck_ but also kinda amazing.” Another big sigh. “And then FP had me ruin it.”

“Well, if I meant so much to you, why’d you do it?”

Joaquin held up his palms in a ‘what could I do?’ gesture. “I _had_ to, Kev. FP had all this dirt on me, and I didn’t know then he’d be so noble about not ratting anyone out. Although I’m not sure that would have applied to me…one of the reasons I had to do all this shit was because I was ‘proving’ myself. If he decided I didn’t cut it as a serpent, I doubt he would have cared about hanging me out to dry.” He sighed, and gave a mirthless chuckle. “Or he’d just have seriously beat the shit out of me, maybe hospitalized me or my old man. He’s a serpent too, but he’s been useless for _years_ because of the booze. They wouldn’t have a problem kicking the teeth out of a such a free-loading waste of space if they had an excuse. I don’t like the guy but I couldn’t let anything bad happen to him, my mama would never forgive me.”

Kevin didn’t say anything, but his eyes softened slightly. And that was enough to encourage Joaquin to keep going.

“I was scared. These are fucking scary guys, you know that. I felt like I had to do it but I swear to _god_ Kevin, I didn’t want to. And I didn’t even do a good job! We had _no idea_ FP was about to be arrested, do you know that? And do you remember me _ever_ pressing you for information?” Kevin thought, then slowly shook his head. “Because I _didn’t._ I _couldn’t._ I told him basically nothing, and it was mostly stuff I overheard your friends talking about. Nothing super important. I wasn’t brave enough to say no, but at least I did a shitty job at betraying you.” Another sigh, and his shoulders slumped even lower. “Pathetic, I know.”

“You could have told me…” Kevin started.

“Really?” Joaquin snorted. “’Oh hey preppy, we’ve only been dating a little while but my gang leader wants me to spy on you to see what your dad knows about this huge murder mystery, what do you think?’ How would you have handled that? Wouldn’t you have told Betty? And wouldn’t your little Scooby Gang then _directly_ confront FP if they knew what he wanted, and you’d _all_ might have gotten hurt?! I had no idea how to get out of the situation once _I_ was in it—I really thought FP had killed the guy—but I thought I could at least keep you and your friends safe.” He grabbed Kevin’s hand with both of his, and looked at him with big, beseeching eyes. “I know I fucked up. I just didn’t know what to do, and I made a stupid call. While I was gone, I figured out that I _should_ have ended things with us, and told FP that you dumped me. But that didn’t even occur to me.”

Kevin let him hold his hand for a moment and looked into the older boy’s eyes. He knew he wasn’t 100% objective when it came to this particular guy, but Kevin felt in his bones that he was telling the truth. He’d been beating himself up for being such a chump for months now, but a tiny part of him had a hard time believing that Joaquin had been lying to him the _entire_ time. He’d dismissed that as wishful thinking, but now he thought maybe that part of him had seen things clearly after all. But still, he was pissed and he was suspicious. Yeah, maybe he wanted to give the boy a great big hug, but he also still wanted to knee him in the junk.

 “So how did this happen? How did FP find out?”

Joaquin groaned. “It’s sooo fucking stupid. And embarrassing. It was a bit after we became ‘official,’ as you put it. I had a serpent meeting and afterwards we were all hanging out, watching some ballgame. But I wasn’t watching the game, I was texting you.” He smiled at the memory. “You were being, uh, _flirty._ And I guess I was smiling at my phone too much, because that asshole Steve-o noticed and started giving me shit.” The smile disappeared. “He grabbed it, and started reading some of our convo out loud, and everyone was laughing about how I was ‘sexting’ someone. They were passing the phone around, taking turns, and it ended up in FP’s hands. You were in my phone as ‘preppy’ just in case but he saw your picture…remember the one you sent me from the locker room?”

Kevin blushed and Joaquin winced. The younger teen had taken a sexy selfie after gym class, and if he remembered correctly all he had on it were his Calvins. “And FP knows my face because he’s Jughead’s dad. Oh my _god_ that’s so fucking awful.”

Joaquin nodded. “Yep. He cornered me later and threatened me. I had to get information from your dad, or things would go very badly. I’m so, _so_ sorry.”

Kevin closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. It was really just bad luck. All this drama and pain, basically because of a terrible coincidence. He looked at his ex again, and thought for a long minute. “OK. I’m not sure if I forgive you for the lying and the criminal shit BUT.” Joaquin looked ready to say something like ‘I don’t expect you to, wah wah I’m so terrible’ and he was _done_ with that for now so he pressed on. “BUT I do believe you…about the rest of it.”

Joaquin smiled, and it was just so goddamned _unfair_ how that affected Kevin. “Wow. That’s…great. _Really_ great. I don’t want you to hate me, Kev. I couldn’t stand it if you did.”

“I don’t hate you. But you’ve given me a lot to think about and now…now I think I need some space.” He had a hell of a lot of pondering to do, that was for sure. And he had a hard time doing that when he could smell Joaquin’s cologne and see his stupid smile.

Joaquin backed away immediately, holding his hands up in a nonthreatening way. “Of course, of course! As long as you need! But I’d like, I’d like to talk to you a bit more if that’s OK?”

Kevin thought, then nodded. “Sure, yeah. I’ve got more questions. I just don’t think I can take any more answers right now. Give me…a few days?”

The older teen nodded. “Do you still have that community service thing on Saturdays? I could meet you when it’s over, if you want?” He looked and sounded so uncertain that honestly, it was beginning to freak Kevin out a bit. Joaquin had _always_ seemed so confident and cocky. This boy…this boy almost seemed like a different person. But an authentic and vulnerable Joaquin wasn’t a _bad_  thing…Right?

 

 

Kevin swooped to sit next to Ethel during a free period, startling the girl. “Ethel. I need your help. You’re maybe one of the sanest people at school—which isn’t that great a compliment, I know—and I really need some advice.”

Ethel looked startled, and he understood. Kevin didn’t usually go out of his way to talk to her outside of group settings (nor she him), though he liked her well enough. They weren’t quite _friends._ Maybe just friendly, instead. “I know, it seems random that I’m asking you but I’m serious: Betty is too close to the situation to be objective (and she wouldn’t be anyway since she likes me too much), Veronica is too wrapped up in Archie, Josie is scary as hell, Archie is an _idiot_ , Reggie is a _bigger_ idiot, Jughead has zero emotional intelligence…I could go on?”

She smiled slightly and shook her head. “No, I get it. How can I help?”

“Oh _bless_ you, you wonderful girl! OK, here’s the situation: It turns out that my ex-boyfriend—remember Joaquin?—lied to me about some pretty serious stuff. Stuff that made me doubt the entire nature of our relationship. I’m now pretty convinced that he really did like me…”

“Oh, he _totally_ did! The way he looked at you at Jughead’s party…” Ethel sighed dreamily.

“That’s good to hear! But the thing is, the stuff he lied about violated my trust a whole hell of a lot. I _maybe_ understand one of the lies—he thought he was protecting me and was in a real sticky situation—but it turns out that there’s also this whole other side to him that I was ignoring before. A less-than-savory side, if you get my drift?”

Ethel remembered Joaquin’s jacket (it had certainly struck her as odd at the time) and nodded.

“He’s been gone the past few months, and we’ve been broken up. But now he’s back in town and he’s seeking me out and I think he still likes me and I think he wants to get back together and I don’t know what to _do_!” Understatement of the year. He needed an outside perspective on this—he’d been in the monkey house for too long and couldn’t figure out what smelled funky anymore.

Ethel shrugged. “Kevin, I uh, I…I don’t have any dating experience…”

“That’s because straight boys are stupid, sweetie. You’re a total cutie and you’re nice and you’re smart.  But you are _also_ a sensible and insightful person, and _that’s_ what I need right now. So please please please help.”

Another slight smile. “Thanks! Um, I guess first of all you have to know more about this other side. How bad is it? Does he feel guilty about it? Is it ongoing? That sort of stuff. Because if it’s in the past, you can try to forgive him and if it’s still happening…that’s trickier. Do you just accept it or do you want him to stop? Is it a deal-breaker?” Kevin nodded thoughtfully. “And as for the bigger issue of trust, well, once that’s gone it’s going to take a while to come back. You can’t expect things to just be fixed like _that,_ not if it was real betrayal. But couples can move past tough stuff…” She trailed off for a minute, and Kevin wondered if she was thinking of her father’s suicide attempt. That had to be hard on her mother. “BUT that only happens if you _want_ to move past it. If you care enough to try to fix things. And that’s something that you have to figure out on your own—do you _want_ to get back together?”

Kevin bit his lip. “I’m not sure. I really like—liked?—the guy. We were good together, we clicked really well, and I was really happy. But there’s all this Southside Serpent bullshit…”

“Don’t focus on that, focus on _him_. On what the two of you were like together. Is _that_ worth working for?”

He thought for a while. Was it? How much of his soft-spot was for Joaquin specifically versus the idea of having a boyfriend? Well, he hadn’t _really_ wanted a boyfriend—he of course was happy to get one and the general idea was _more_ than appealing—but he’d also been happy enough sowing wild oats. He’d assumed that the time for boyfriends would be college, once he got out of town and had access to a better dating pool. He’d been wistful about prom dates and whatnot, but he didn’t think that made him blind to Joaquin’s faults…No, he’d like Joaquin for who he was, not what he represented. He thought about the nervous boy he’d seen on Tuesday, the one who cared so much about Kevin not hating him. The boy who loved movies and loved watching and arguing about movies with Kevin. The boy who never met a cat gif he didn’t love. The boy with the electric touch. The boy whose eyes lit up when he talked about his kid sisters, and also (a bit) when he looked at Kevin.

“Yeah, I think it is,” he said finally.

Ethel smiled, a full smile this time. “Then you should at least try. Maybe it won’t work, maybe you two are too broken. But maybe if you clear the air, and are really honest with each other this time…maybe you can move past all this. I hope you can, you two were really cute together.”

Kevin wrapped the girl in a giant hug and kissed her cheek. “You are a total doll _,_ Ethel. Thank you sooo much, you can’t even _know_ how helpful this was.” He released her and looked straight into her eyes. “If there’s anything, _anything_ I can ever do for you, you just let me know right?” She nodded with that slight smile. “Really, a _total doll._ I ought to clone you, Riverdale wouldn’t be such a festering cesspool if we had more people like you.” She was turning quite red now, so Kevin figured he’d said enough. He squeezed her hand once and added. “Seriously. _Thank you._ ”

As he walked to his next class (fighting the urge to skip), Kevin pondered the strange feeling that was bubbling up in his chest. It'd been a long time, and he  _almost_ didn't recognize it, but Kevin felt hope. Maybe there could be a happy ending to this soap opera after all...though they obviously weren't there _yet_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was pretty sure this wasn’t just blind optimism speaking, but what the hell. This wouldn’t be the worse decision of his life. Taking a risk on Joaquin wouldn’t even be the worst decision of this year. Plus, making bad decisions seemed to be the norm these days. He could always just blame it on peer pressure.

True to his word, when Kevin left the Riverdale Senior Center on Saturday afternoon, there was Joaquin. Waiting patiently, holding a plastic bag, looking stupidly hot, and threatening Kevin’s general sanity. Dammit.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Double dammit! He’d once again practiced what he was going to say in his mirror like, 20 times! He’d wanted to set _just_ the right tone: angry but not _too_ angry, benevolent but not a pushover, hypothetically interested in getting back together if that was on the table but supremely unconcerned if it _wasn’t_ …OK, in retrospect that was never going to be effectively conveyed in a greeting or witty quip. Dammit dammit dammit.

As Kevin flailed internally, panicking over a conversation that hadn’t even started yet, Joaquin’s nerves were a bit more apparent. He shifted his feet, ran a hand through his hair, and bit his lip. But finally, he inhaled deeply and spoke.

“Can we sit?” he asked, gesturing to a nearby bench. Kevin nodded, and they awkwardly sat—at opposite ends of the bench, but angled towards one another. “Um, do you still need a post-volunteering caffeine boost?” When Kevin nodded again, Joaquin reached into his bag and pulled out a cold Diet Dr. Pepper. His favorite. It was this shit—the small but thoughtful gestures—that drove Kevin crazy. He’d _loved_ it when they were dating, and he bragged to Vee & Bee about Joaquin’s sweet attentiveness: sending him a video of corgis running in slow-motion to “Chariots of Fire” right before a terrifying chemistry exam, always ordering a vanilla milkshake because he knew Kevin had a hard time deciding between that and chocolate and this way he could drink half of Joaquin’s, learning the names of random Riverdale High students and celebrities so he could follow Kevin’s stories and ask follow-up questions, all sorts of stupid little things. Then after the boy left town on that goddamned bus, he’d been _pissed._ He’d convinced himself that it was one of the manipulative ways Joaquin had ingratiated himself into Kevin’s life. Which just seemed incredibly cruel—who bothers to fake shit like _that_? Yet now the evidence suggested it wasn’t an act or underhanded ploy, Joaquin was just a damn good boyfriend for someone who’d never been in a relationship before…well, in certain respects anyway.

“Thanks,” Kevin said belatedly. He needed to get out of his head and focus on the guy sitting next to him in the here and now.  He waited for Joaquin to speak, and realized that he seemed to be doing the same thing. Alright, time to get some questions answered. Jump right in, Keller. “So I gotta know. Where were you when you left town? What were you doing this whole time?!”

Joaquin clearly had expected this question, because he relaxed a bit. “I bounced around for a while, just random cities. Didn’t seem to differ all that much, actually. Worked daily jobs that payed cash—washed a lot of dishes, waved some signs, did some landscaping. Nothing sketchy. Didn’t want to get into any trouble, didn’t want to use the money I’m saving up. Stayed in hostels a few times, _that_ sucked. Then I switched to those cheap weekly motels. Real nice places, you’d have felt totally at home.” Kevin shuddered in horror, and Joaquin grinned quickly. “Did that for 5 weeks, I think? Wasn’t too bad, but…I was lonely, ya know? Missed my family, friends….you.” He flushed a bit, then cleared his throat and hurried on.

“So I was in Franklin doing that same shit, and one Sunday I went to this church that seemed to have an OK Latino community and they just… _adopted_ me or something. Random teenaged stranger all by himself at mass? I got fucking _mobbed_ after the service, all these people wanting to feed me and help me and shit. It was fucking weird. But nice, you know? I, uh, didn’t want to lie to them about who I was or why I was in town, so I just told them that I was in a gang in another city and was trying to get out of that life. And none of them seemed to mind. This one old lady, she basically ran a boarding house and _made_ me rent a room from her. She said I needed someone to look after me, keep me from ‘doing stupid shit.’ Then she cornered me all ‘Steal from me, _mijo_ , and I’ll track you down and make you suffer in ways you can’t even imagine.’ I mean, she looked like my abuela but she was fucking _scary_. But I sure as hell stayed out of trouble. Anyway, that’s where I’ve been. I stayed there until you got in touch.” He awkwardly took a sip from his own drink, and lifted his eyebrows at Kevin, indicating he was ready for the next question.

Kevin took a sip too, to give himself time to think. He thought about what he’d do if he had to leave everyone he cared about behind at the drop of a hat. Had to go into hiding. Had to support himself. Honestly, he doubted he’d survive, yet Joaquin had managed to do pretty well for himself. Then he thought about what Joaquin had said, that he was ‘trying to get out that life.’ If that was true, well… But that seemed like it might escalate this conversation too soon. Better to gradually build up to it.

“And now that you’re back? What are you up to? Settling back in OK?” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat; this seemed _waay_ more awkward and stressful than Tuesday. But that first meeting seemed to simply be about whether or not he would hate Joaquin forever; today seemed to be more about what they’d be to each other in the future. Higher stakes, maybe.

Joaquin smiled, and Kevin was glad he was sitting because his knees went a little weak at the sight. “It’s actually gone pretty well. I’m back at school, and if I go to summer school I’ll graduate without needing to repeat the year, thank God. And there’s a class I’m going to start soon that’ll hopefully help me get a job. One of the other guys at the house—he was older, but he’d done some stupid shit when he was young too—did that HVAC stuff. He just went on and _on_ about how an upside to all this climate change shit was that there’s big money in heating and air conditioning, so eventually I ended up helping him out—kind of a low-key apprenticeship, I guess? Anyway, it was actually kind of interesting, and I seem to be pretty good at it. If I get this certificate and my diploma, I’ve got a job waiting for me. Benefits and everything. Right here in town, too.”  

“Yeah? That’s awesome!” It really was. “And…and the Serpents? What’s going on there?” He mentally crossed his fingers. Here it comes.

Joaquin’s smile faded a bit but didn’t disappear. “That’s harder, but that’s going pretty well too. I can’t leave—I know too much and anyway leaving involves a pretty major beating. _But_ there’s all types of serpents, with varying levels of…involvement? There’s not too many people who actively take part in club business—it would be too big to manage. So that’s a pretty small group. Most of the guys just get involved from time to time as needed. But there’s also guys who don’t do any of that shit; they just ride and hang out and keep their hands clean. I’d been in the inner circle as FP’s gopher, but I’m working my way towards that type of serpent. Skipping town actually helped—other people took over the stuff I used to do, and with FP locked up there’s no one encouraging me to get involved again.”

“For real? They’ll just let you go?” That sounds almost too good to be true.

Joaquin let out a sad little laugh and shook his head. “Well, I’m not _going_ anywhere. I’ll still be around, they’ll still be able to trust me. I just won’t be available for ‘work’ anymore. As long as I pay off my dad’s bar tab every now and then and keep my fucking mouth shut, it should be fine. It’s not like I’m irreplaceable or anything. I told some of the older guys that this whole Jason Blossom shit made me realize I can’t do what I was doing _and_ take care of my family. The last few months have been really hard for my mother without me around. I need to be legit for them, especially since my dad is so useless. They get it—they know dad’s deal, they like my mama. And I think because I’m young and haven’t done any time they’re more understanding. Actually, that job I mentioned is with a serpent who owns his own business. Totally straight, no funny stuff. They’re not all criminals, you know? It’s also a social thing. It’s mainly a motorcycle _club,_ not a gang.”

That was something Kevin had a hard time wrapping his head around—why would you hang out with a group of people that were seen as dangerous scum if you _weren’t_ like that?—but he admitted that he clearly had a bias and lacked the necessary perspective. The important thing was that Joaquin said he wasn’t going to do what he used to do anymore. Which was what, exactly? Other than disposing of bodies and being a really shitty mole, what _had_ he done? Did he really want to know? He set that thought aside for now, he didn’t want to push things too much yet. (Or maybe, if Kevin was being honest with himself, he didn’t want this bubble of hope to be popped just yet.)

He took a breath and smiled back at his ex. “Wow. It sounds like you’ve got your shit together. I’m happy for you, seriously.” He was. Whatever happened between them, he was truly glad that Joaquin was making better life choices. He wanted the older boy to be able to buy his mother a house, to set a good example for his sisters, to live past 30…

Joaquin flushed again and gave a half shrug. “Dunno about that, but I’m trying. Still got a long way to go. And I got a _lot_ of mistakes to try to make up for. Taking off like that broke my sisters’ hearts. I’m not done apologizing yet; I’m taking them to the park and then for milkshakes this afternoon.”

Kevin nodded at that, but didn’t add anything. Joaquin stared blankly into space a few beats then glanced sideways at the younger teen, seeming like he wasn’t sure what to say. He ever so casually stretched and placed his arm on the back of the bench—bridging the gap between Kevin and him, but not making any contact. He cleared his throat and took another sip of his drink.

He drummed his fingers on the back of the bench, and continued with the same assumed casualness. “So…I don’t know if you knew this, but there’s a double-feature at the Bijou this weekend: _Singin’ in the Rain_ and _La La Land._ I thought you might want to compare & contrast them, and make fun of Ryan Gosling’s dancing? And, uh, and maybe continue my education in movie musicals?”

“I _would_ like that,” Kevin mused. He thought for a long moment. “Would, um, would this be a date?”

Joaquin shrugged helplessly. “That’s up to you, Kev. I just want to spend some time with you, however you feel comfortable. I still like you, preppy, but I also know I fucked up and I’ve been gone for a while. Hell, maybe you’ve got somebody new…” His face twitched a bit at that but pushed on. “Anyway. Yeah. Um. I’d like to still be friends, if that’s cool with you. Or…whatever else you want.” His face was an intriguing blend of hopefulness and despair: He wanted a certain answer, but clearly wasn’t expecting to get it.

Kevin could relate. He wanted something too and wasn’t sure _he_ was going to get it. Well, he could get it if he was willing to just ignore a bunch of stuff, like he unknowingly did before. If Joaquin’s past sins remained vague, it’d be easier for Kevin to overlook them. But he wasn’t sure he could do that. Not the way his daddy raised him. He chewed on his own lip for a bit, thinking. Joaquin just sat there, patiently waiting.

“That…depends.” Joaquin’s eyebrows shut up, so he continued. “I mean, I’d _like_ it to be a date, but…but it’s weird. I feel like I know you but I also feel like I _don’t_ know you. Like, at _all_. And I think I need to actually know you before I can start to trust you again. Which I’m not sure I can, but I can try to. If, if…” If he knew that the other boy hadn’t done something truly unforgivable. “If you tell me about Joaquin the Southside Serpent.”

This earned a slow, sad sigh. “Yeah, I figured. I was hoping you wouldn’t ask, but I’d already promised myself that I’m not going to lie to you ever again. I’ll tell you. It’s just…you’re probably going to hate me.” He rubbed his hands over his face a few times, and sighed again. “First of all, the _worst_ thing I ever did—legally, anyway—you already know about. The shit with Jason Blossom.” Kevin was surprised, but pleased. “Um, some vandalism. And there were some assaults and shit. But I never sent anyone to the hospital.”

He tilted his head back to look at the sky, shook his head, and looked at Kevin again with an apologetic expression. “I sold drugs, Kev. I was the main dealer at Southside High, and sold to some of the kids at your school too. I guess I seemed approachable or something? Whatever.” He sighed in disgust. “At least we never sold hard stuff. You never know what you’re gonna get with opiates these days, and if someone dies they can lock you up for murder now. So it was just weed, mainly. And Adderall. Some Ecstasy, a little cocaine, a little acid. About 80% was pot. But that doesn’t make it OK. I’m sorry, though I know that means jack shit.”

Kevin was torn. He was glad that Joaquin hadn’t committed anything _horrific_ (you heard such rumors about the Serpents!) but those were still mostly felonies. And he hated, _hated_ drugs. His dad had told him about the sad consequences of drug use since he was a little kid. Plus his cousin in another city had gotten hooked on Oxy and eventually OD’d. He’d survived but just barely and he was still recovering. And his aunt and uncle were still devastated.

Joaquin knew this. Kevin had told him this. Joaquin had known this, and listened sympathetically to Kevin, and then gone out and continued to sell drugs. Goddammit, Joaquin.

“Goddammit, Joaquin!” It was Kevin’s turn to sigh, and Joaquin just hung his head in shame. “Drugs, really?!”

“Yeah, I know. I know. I _told_ you that you’d hate me. I just…I never really thought about it before I met you—it was just a job and the pay was good. But I started to feel guilty after you told me about your cousin and stuff, how he’d more or less started with E. Not guilty enough to stop, or at least not then _._ Maybe I would have eventually. Who knows.” He shrugged. “I honestly don’t know what to say, other than I’m ashamed and I’m sorry and I’m _done_ with that shit.”

Kevin sighed again and shut his eyes to think. OK. Not cool, but…maybe not _that_ bad? Kevin was actually all for the legalization of marijuana (even if he didn’t smoke himself)—it didn’t seem any worse than alcohol. Which he drank from time to time, despite being underage. Which was in no way comparable to drug distribution but still. Kevin wasn’t a saint, either. So. Joaquin hadn’t sold anything hard, or particularly habit-forming. Party drugs, basically. Bad but not unforgivable. Especially if he was done with it all…

He looked over at Joaquin, who was sadly gazing back at him with a defeated expression on his face. He just sat there as Kevin stared at him and thought. Thought hard. This was it, Keller. Once again, it all came down to him. To how _he_ decided to act. There was a _lot_ of potential here—he might get hurt again _or_ he might fall head over heels. Was it worth the risk?

He focused inwardly, trying to figure out how he _really_ truly felt. Surprisingly, there wasn’t anger. He’d been so angry for so long, but he hadn’t wanted to be, not really. And after Tuesday, he’d somehow released it. Well, most of it. He was definitely still pissy, but not ‘I’m going to spit in your face and burn down everything you own’ levels of anger. Even with this new information, it didn’t seem to be enough to re-ignite his ire. There wasn’t any resentment either, which honestly surprised him. But it wasn’t like Joaquin had come confidently strolling back into his life expecting Kevin to want to pick up where they left off. The older boy was clearly letting Kevin determine how things were going to go, and that feeling of power really helped aid forgiveness.

He didn’t feel the same level of trust and comfort he did before the truth came out, but he wasn’t expecting that. Still, he realized that he _wanted_ to feel that way again and he thought it could actually happen. He believed that he _would_ be able to rely on his boyfriend again, that his boyfriend would try to do the right thing and make Kevin feel happy and safe. He believed that he could help Joaquin as he followed this new path. He believed they could once again be good together, and be good for each other.

He was _pretty_ sure this wasn’t just blind optimism speaking, but what the hell. This wouldn’t be the worse decision of his life. Taking a risk on Joaquin wouldn’t even be the worst decision of this _year._ Plus, making bad decisions seemed to be the norm these days. He could always just blame it on peer pressure.

He wondered if he was caving too easily, if he ought to make Joaquin work harder or grovel. But what would be the point? To punish him? It’s not like the last few months have been paradise; it seems like the older boy had suffered plenty. Being isolated, doing grunt work, living with a scary old lady, and not sleeping sounded pretty damn miserable. Demanding more of him would just be petty. And he _wasn’t_ that petty, he’d already decided that. Right?

“OK,” he said at last. “Let’s try it. BUT.” he added as Joaquin lit up in complete happiness and surprise “BUT there need to be some rules. We can try to move past all this shit, but we can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.” Joaquin’s smile dimmed a bit but he nodded.

Kevin thought for a moment. “Alright. First and foremost. No more lying, no more criminal shit. You mess up there again, we’re over forever. Period.”

“Totally, Kev. I already promised that to myself.” He was staring intently at Kevin now, like he was trying to telepathically convince Kevin to believe him. It worked. And having that intense (and sexy) focus on him inspired another good rule.

“Um, no fooling around right away. Orgasms and being horny make me stupid, and I want to know that I trust _you_ , not the feel-good hormones you cause.” Joaquin grinned at this and nodded again. “And…if we’re going to do this maybe we should try to do it for real? I mean, you met my friends but I never met yours. Like, real friends. Not ‘motorcycle club’ guys. And I’d like to meet your mom and sisters, and for you to meet my dad. We shouldn’t be hiding each other from people who are important to us.” He knew this would be tricky—Joaquin would struggle with convincing the Serpents that he was still a team player if he was dating the Sheriff’s son, and Kevin would struggle with convincing his father that his boyfriend was a _good_ serpent (now). So he expected Joaquin to push back on this one.

But to his surprise, Joaquin took Kevin’s hand in his and squeezed. “Of _course_ , preppy. I’d love to show you off. I’ve _dreamed_ of doing that. I’m proud of you, and I’m going to try to be someone you can be proud of too.”

And Kevin just _melted_. “Oh sweetie, I’m already proud of you. You’ve changed so much already. And before, you were still a good guy. A good boyfriend, a good son, a good brother. Don’t you _dare_ doubt that.”

Joaquin shrugged off the praise but gave a lopsided smile. He slowly slid along the bench and, when Kevin didn’t back away, ran his free hand through Kevin’s hair. He ended up cupping the younger boy’s face, and he shook his own head a bit in disbelief. “I don’t deserve this, I don’t deserve _you_. I don’t know what the hell made me so lucky, but I’m not gonna jinx it. You’re fucking amazing.” He leaned in and gave Kevin a soft, sweet kiss that left the younger boy’s head spinning. “Thanks for giving me another shot, Kev. I’m not going to let you down again. I never wanted to hurt you and I’m never going to do it again, I promise.” He looked into his eyes and sighed happily. This encouraged Kevin to initiate a kiss that was less soft (and less short) but no less sweet. He pulled away before things got heated, which was maybe one of the hardest things he’d ever done.

They sat there like total cheeseballs, just grinning at each other and holding hands. From the look on his face, Kevin was bit nervous that Joaquin might drop the l-word (which wasn’t _bad_ it was _fantastic_ but it would also be _overwhelming_ as fuck and would confuse Kevin even more than hormones) but if that’s what the older boy was thinking, he didn’t mention it. He’d always been pretty good at guessing how Kevin was feeling, and knowing just what he needed.

Instead, he stood and pulled Kevin to his feet and wrapped his arms around the taller boy. “You going to let me take you out tonight then, preppy? I’ll even pick you up at your front door like a real date and everything. No more avoiding your dad, right?”

Kevin smiled down at his ex—no wait, his _boyfriend—_ and nodded. “Yeah, OK. But only if you let me help buy the snacks. If it’s a double-feature, I’m going to need plenty of fuel! You wouldn’t like me when I’m hangry.”

Joaquin chuckled. “I’m pretty sure I’ll like you no matter how you are, you know that. But I _do_ prefer you happy, so I’ll smuggle some peanut butter M &Ms in for you. Unless that’s against the new rules?” He winked at Kevin and bit his lip teasingly.

The younger teen rolled his eyes. “I think _that_ type of law-breaking is acceptable, DeSantos. That way, you’ve still got your whole ‘sexy bad boy’ vibe without any of the drama. Win-win.” It was Joaquin’s turn to roll his eyes, and he gave Kevin one more kiss before taking off to get his sisters with plans to meet up later.

Things were already starting to feel like they did before, and Kevin wondered again if he was being too forgiving, moving too fast. But from the moment he kissed Joaquin goodbye at the bus station, part of him had been waiting and hoping for the boy to come back. Despite the anger and confusion, maybe he’d known all along that there was still something real between them, something worth giving another shot. Because Joaquin wasn’t that good an actor. Because Kevin wasn’t that petty. Because nobody was perfect, but Joaquin and he were pretty fucking good together. Because he deserved to be happy. Right? Right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! Or at least as I'd planned. Season 2 is fucking sad and so I've got an epilogue of sorts in mind. I might just be motivated enough to get it done!  
> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it.


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